Frozen
by Calliope29
Summary: This is the tale of a girl who was born the wrong gender. Princess Nalia Elizabeth-Perry Taylor runs away from her home in Dragonspyre when she finally has had enough of her mother's snubs and cool attitude. Found in the woods by Porlyusica, she begins a new life at a guild called Fairy Tail. What will become of our new heroine? And will she be able to keep her secret?


**Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail or any recognizable characters or plot (If I owned Fairy Tail, there would be more romance, am I right?)**

**I welcome all constructive criticism but try not to be too grouchy when delivering it. Also, I've been known to make spelling and grammatical errors so if you see any, feel free to point them out. I'd like to apologize in advance for that. **

**On that note, I know there are people out there that really, ****_really_**** don't like OCs so if you're one of those people, don't waste your breath telling me you don't like the character. Just don't read the story. **

**That's my piece said, so: Onward with the story!**

* * *

Porlyusica reached up the tree to grasp an apple in her hand. With a gentle twist and a snap the apple falls into her hand. She adds it to her basket and repeats the process. It was just an ordinary day it would appear. The sun was peeking out from behind the white cottony clouds, not that it mattered. The foliage loomed overhead and provided shade and cover.

It was warm outside, but the heat was dry and the humidity was low. So when there was a cloud clap of thunder, she was initially confused. It was a beautiful day outside. Where the _hell_ did that come from? Spinning around, immediately on the alert, Porlyusica searches vainly for the stupid human that disturbed the peace of the quiet forest.

Her crimson eyes jump around the near vicinity and land on a small girl. She was young, Porlyusica decided. She could only be nine, no older, with long golden hair. She was lying on the ground, completely flaccid, with her back to her so she couldn't make out much more then her hair and gown. She was dressed, oddly enough, in a light green ball gown, overloaded in lace and garish beading.

Abandoning her basket, Porlyusica approaches her warily. Despite her young and girly appearance, she wouldn't let herself be deceived. Many strange things turned up in her forest, some harmless and others not so much. As she approached her, she noticed that the girl didn't _feel_ human, despite her appearances. Though she was defiantly a mage. Her breathing was low and shallow and Porlyusica gently rolls her onto her back to examine her with a healer's eye.

Her crimson irises meet startling green one's. They were fogged over, as if she was having troubling focusing on things but they clear when they rake over Porlyusica's form. She licks her lips and murmurs, "Grandeeny?" Her eyes slide shut as she falls into unconsciousness.

Porlyusica freezes as she stares daggers at the girl. She couldn't possibly have known, could she? Yet, she said it with certainty, as if she was relieved. Clearly, she knew Porlyusica's counterpart. But who was she?

Porlyusica presses the back of her hand against the girl's forehead and is relieved to find her temperature normal. She slides one hand under her knees and the other on her lower back. Easily lifting the girl up, she discovers the girl is much lighter then she expected. The dress clearly hid her petit frame and she wonders if her original guess was wrong. She was as light as a seven year old should be.

The girl appeared to be in a deep sleep, maybe a comatose state. Porlyusica takes her back to her cottage and lays her in the cot she reserved for the rare patients Makarov brought to her. Though she didn't appear to have any physical injuries, the dress covered a lot of skin and Porlyusica removes it to find underneath she was wearing a simple white cotton t-shirt and a pair of green running shorts. Her arms hade the occasional bruise and scar but she couldn't tell if they were from good-natured roughhousing, or something more sinister.

Other then that, the child was fine and Porlyusica decides she'd passed out from magical fatigue. She could heal the bruises and cuts but the girl would have to wake up on her own, once she recovered her magic. That could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days, maybe more.

Porlyusica sighs and stands, retrieving a small white container. Unscrewing the top revealed a thick brown paste. She dipped her fingers into the cold substance and applies it liberally to the bruises and wrapping them in thin strips of cotton.

After healing the girl as best she could, she pulls the sheet on the bed up to her chin and sits back on her stool to contemplate her next move. The girl was clearly not human, her magic signature was unfamiliar but not foreign, but Porlyusica couldn't be sure _what_ she was. She wouldn't know anything about the strange child currently occupying her home until she woke up. What was she supposed to do with her when she woke up? She would not be staying here, that was for sure. Porlyusica preferred to keep her solitude.

Her gaze travels down the girls face: her small button nose, rounded rosy cheeks and the dignified arch to her eyebrows. She may be young but she looked sophisticated and her face had an aristocratic look to it. She wondered if she had any family that she could be left with or if she was an orphan. She could be a runaway or just looking for a guild to join.

Well, whatever her case may be, Porlyusica was not cut out look after this child when she awoke if it were the case that she was an orphan. But, she did know a paternal figure that'd gladly tale the young mage in. With a nod of her head, she stood up from the stool and located her communications Lacrima.

It brightens as she focuses on it and flickers briefly before a familiar face appears, grinning. His older-then-time-eyes twinkle at her and his wrinkled skin looked decidedly flushed. He had an earsplitting grin as her greets her, "'Lo, Porlyusica dear! What can I do you for?" His words were slightly slurred and they had an airy, giggly quality to them. Clearly, he was drunk. Again.

Porlyusica plasters an irate scowl onto her features and prepares to chastise the guild master. "Makarov! Would you get the drunken grin off your face and get your sorry hide over here! I have something to talk to you about!" She barks.

Makarov sobers up slightly though he was still grinning and asks, "What happened? Did a human wander into your house?" He teases.

Porlyusica growls and screeches, "Yes! And so help me, if you're still drunk when you get down here!" she lets the threat hand in the air before cutting the connection abruptly. She knew the girl wasn't human but Makarov would move faster if he thought that was why she was so irked. He'd want to spare the foolish human her ire.

She was right, of course. The walk that would normally take the man a leisurely thirty minutes was completed in ten. She stands to answer the knock on her door. Throwing up the door she gives him a grim look.

Makarov had followed his instructions and was clearly sober now. He looked around for the human and spots the girl in the bed. Coming the same conclusion as his pink-haired companion he states, "She's not human, Porlyusica. What happened to her, though?"

Porlyusica leads him inside and replies, "I'm aware of that. The child just appeared in my forest, earlier today. She was wearing that dress," she gestures the garment of clothing she'd hung over the side of the bed, "littered with bruises and scars. She called me 'Grandeeny' before she passed out from magical exhaustion. I brought her here and healed the bruises before calling you."

Makarov considers this, "She called you Grandeeny? Is she from Edolas?" He wonders out loud, scratching his chin as he thought.

She sighs and says, "I do not believe so, though she is not from here either, as far as I can tell."

He nods his head and closes his eyes. "I wonder where she came from? Do you know when she'll wake up so we can question her?"

Porlyusica examines her patient with a critical eye. She'd regained some color and her breathing had evened out. Her eyes fluttered slightly, though they did not open. By her best guess, she was now in a light sleep. They could wake her up now but she knew that they had to let her sleep it off. "She should wake soon," she finally decides.

Makarov nods and asks; "I know you'd rather not have her here. Is she fit to be moved? I can take her to the infirmary at Fairy Tail until she wakes."

She shakes her head, "Leave the child be. She will wake soon, yes, but she will still be weak. Magical exhaustion is a serious business, I'll remind you. She is not human she may stay here until she is well."

He wasn't very surprised. Though she didn't show it often, Porlyusica had a maternal streak. She always took the upmost care with anyone, whether they be human or not, he brought to her to be healed. She may hide behind that scowl but on the inside she was gentle.

There companionable silence was broken by a soft groan and they both turn to face the young girl in bed. She struggled to open her eyes briefly but eventually wins out the battle and her jade eyes search the room hazily. They land on Porlyusica and Makarov. "Grandeeny?" she asks again.

Porlyusica makes a distressed sound. She did not like that name and was about to reprimand the girl for calling her that when Makarov stops her by placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hello, child," he greets with a smile.

Her gaze swings over and hesitates before replying, "Hello," in a small voice.

"My name is Master Makarov," he continues, "What's you name?"

Apparently, feeling more comfortable now that she could put a name to the stranger's face, she replies, "Princess Nalia Elizabeth-Perry Taylor. But I don't like that title."

Porlyusica conceals a small gasp though she cannot keep her eyes from widening. She _knew_ this child. Makarov didn't miss this but chose to ignore his friend for the moment. "Princess of what, child?" He asks, keeping his tone light to hide his confusion and surprise.

Nalia scowls slightly, most likely at the honorific, and replies, "Dragonspyre. But don't call me that. It's why I ran away," a small look of horror crosses her face briefly before being replaced by an accusing glare. "You won't send me back will you?" She asks.

He casts a glance at Porlyusica who, with her eyes, was clearly trying to tell him to drop the subject. That she'd tell him later. With a discreet nod, Makarov turns back Nalia and says, "We won't. But why did you leave, child?"

Nalia frowns and says, "My mother didn't want me to train anymore."

"Train?"

"Yeah. She said that Dragon-Slaying is for the princes and that princesses had to have tea-time and had to learn how to rule the kingdom and that getting dirty was bad but I don't _want_ to be a princess!"

Makarov wanted to know more about her training and her kingdom but knew that asking those kinds of questions would upset her and then she'd clam up. "So, how did you get here?" He inquires instead.

She closes her eyes and turns her head. "If I tell, you can't get mad. Or send me back. Mother would not be happy and then she'd tell the dragons to not talk to me. Then I'd be all alone in my room for forever."

Earnestly, he replies, "I promise not to send you back. Not if it makes you unhappy, child. I won't get mad, either."

Nalia turns back with a calculating look, searching his eyes for any sign of lying. "I used the teleportation Lacrima. Ventus helped me but don't tell anyone 'cause I don't want him to be in trouble either," she explains.

Makarov sits back in his chair, "Who's Ventus?" He asks curiously.

A smile breaks through the small frown that had been present on her lips. "Ventus is my friend. He's the wind dragon," she turns to Porlyusica and observes, "You smell like Grandeeny, the sky dragon, but… you're not a dragon. Why?"

Porlyusica and Makarov both share a look. "You are aware that there are different dimensions, yes?" Makarov asks kindly. With an affirmative nod, he continues, "This is Porlyusica, and she is Grandeeny's Edolas counterpart. You've heard of Edolas?"

Nalia nods her head so enthusiastically, Porlyusica wouldn't be surprised if the child's eyes popped out her head and rolled away. "Yes! I do. Mother taught me all about Edolas during my History lessons!"

For the first time since the child awoke, Porlyusica speaks. "You said you used a teleportation Lacrima, child. Weren't those banned some years ago in Dragonspyre?" she asks.

The smile drops off of Nalia's face. "No… Yes… Maybe?" She giggles before wiping all emotion off her face and replying more firmly, "It depends. If I say yes will you send me back?"

With their answer, the two adults let the topic drop for the moment. "I healed some bruises and cuts when you passes out. Did those come from training, child?" Porlyusica asks, switching the subject.

Nalia looks down at her arm, as if looking for the abrasions, only to find them swathed in cotton. She touches it, tilting her head to the side before beginning to unravel the bandages. "Yeah, I was with Metalicana today. He's a bit rough."

Porlyusica makes to stop her from taking off the wrappings but Makarov stops her, curious as to what she would do. So they watch with rapt attention as she wipes the brown paste off her wounds and tosses the cotton on the other side of the bed. She held her hand out of her arm and her brow creases with concentration. A faint blue glow begins to emit from her hand and they all watch as her cuts close and bruises fade from a vulgar yellow-green, to blue and finally disappear leaving behind unblemished, porcelain skin. She repeats the action until she was completely healed before sitting back with a satisfied smile.

"How did you do that?" Makarov wonders.

"Sky dragon slaying is mostly healing but there are a few offensive spells. I actually learned it from Grandeeny," she admits, casting a glance at the stone-still Porlyusica. She looked slightly longing but Makarov choses not to comment.

"Interesting. How many dragon-slaying arts did you master?" He asks curiously, thinking to the pinkette dragon enthusiast waiting back at the guild.

"The prince is supposed to learn them all but I don't have a brother. Mother said I was supposed to be a boy but that I was a disappointment. That's why I was training. I did it in secret with the dragons. I learned water, earth, sky, lightening, wind and was just starting iron when she found out," here she pauses sadly, "Mother, was mad, not proud, so I ran away."

Makarov hides a wince. In his guild, there were a lot of people with sad backgrounds. People whose parents abandoned them or were orphans. Everyone's past was tinged with sadness. He imagined by now, he might be used to the sad stories but each new one was like a blow to the gut. He'd never get used to it and there was nothing he could do to change the past. But he could make the present a happier place.

"Child, would you like to join my guild, Fairy Tail?" He asks after a long moment of silence.

Nalia tilts her head to the side. "Guild? You mean one of those places where mages work?" She asks. When he nods affirmatively, she smiles, "I would love to!"

Makarov nods and says, "You'll make friends there. It's a very nice place, one of the best guilds!" He nearly puffs his chest out in pride.

The corner's of Nalia's lips drop for a seconds and she asks, "Do I have to tell people where I'm from? 'Cause I don't want to."

He shakes his head, "If you don't feel comfortable telling people, I will not make you. It can be your fresh start, as it was to many others. They will welcome you with open arms, I'm sure. We're all nakama there. But if in the future you feel comfortable around the people there, you may want to consider telling your friends what you are," he advises gently.

Her eyes widen, "I don't want anyone to know, ever."

"Then your secret is safe with me, child," Makarov assures. "If you don't want to arise suspicion though, you may want to pick one dragon-slaying art to use."

Nalia contemplates this for a moment and says, "I like water. Cause water as two ways to use it: ice and water!" She explains with a smile. "May I go by my middle name, Elizabeth?"

Makarov nods his head, "So mote it be, Elizabeth, the water-dragon slayer and Fairy Tail's newest mage." He gives her a large grin, "Now all we have to do is get you your guild mark! And figure out your living accommodations. I'm sure we can find a space for you at Fairy Hills. Hilda would love to have you!"

"Let's go!" 'Elizabeth' enthuses, making to get up from the bed.

"Oh no you don't!" Porlyusica shrieks. Both Makarov and Elizabeth jump, having forgotten the silent healer was there. "You passed out from magical exhaustion not even three hours ago. You are not getting out of that bed until tomorrow morning at the earliest, child! Stay put!"

"But, Grandeeny!" Elizabeth protests.

"And don't you go calling me that!" She continues vehemently. "If I ever see you again, which I hope I don't, you'll call me Porlyusica!"

Elizabeth looks at her covers, appearing properly chastised but Makarov knows better then to accept Porlyusica's harsh tone. If she really never wanted to see the girl again, she wouldn't have bothered to tell her she didn't want to. It was her own special way of telling the Elizabeth to visit her. She wasn't human and she was from a different world, much like Porlyusica, and that meant she was tolerable.

"Well, how about this, Elizabeth. Tomorrow, I'll come pick you up from Porlyusica and take you to the guild so you can get your mark. By that time, I'll have talked to Hilda and we'll have a space at Fairy Hill's ready for you," Makarov informs the clearly crest-fallen child.

She perks up considerably and agrees, "Yeah, alright!"

With a nod to Porlyusica, Makarov stands and says, "Then I shall see you tomorrow, Elizabeth."

As he leaves, Elizabeth settles back into the pillows on her bed and watches as Porlyusica cleans up the bandages she'd removed earlier. "Are you hungry?" she asks, noticing the young girl's eyes on her form. Elizabeth nods her head slightly.

Porlyusica gestures for her to wait a moment and heads outside to retrieve her abandoned basket of apples. She scoops it up under one arm and returns to her house. As she opens the door, soft snores reach her ears and she finds that Elizabeth had evidently tired herself out and was currently sleeping soundly once again. She snorts to herself and sets the basket on her counter, preparing to peel the apples.

-0o[]o0-

The next morning dawned bright and early, the rays of sun straggling in through Porlyusica's curtains. The birds sang their song's merrily but other then that, the only other sound breaking the peace was slight creak to the floorboards as Porlyusica moved around, going through her morning routine.

Elizabeth pried her eyes open and yawned, sitting up to stretch. She was momentarily confused. This was not her lavish bed back home. This most certainly wasn't her bedroom and the women currently asking her how she was feeling was definitely not her mother. Her addled brain detects the familiar scent of her favorite sky dragon and she murmurs, "I'm fine, morning Grandeeny."

There's a distressed sound and a clatter as the women snaps, "I told you not to call me that, child!"

Elizabeth blinks twice before she smiles, remembering where she was. "Sorry Porlyusica. I'm just a bit sleepy."

Porlyusica grumbles, "Heaven knows why, you slept for nearly twenty hours." A knock at the door interrupts what Elizabeth was sure would be a lecture and Porlyusica throws open the door to reveal a grinning Makarov. "Good timing Makarov, the child just woke up!"

Elizabeth jumps out of bed, casting a glance at her abandoned dress on the end of the bed. She blushes slightly, realizing she would have to find a whole new wardrobe. "Good morning, Master Makarov!" She greets sunnily.

"Morning, Elizabeth. Are you ready to go? And call me Jichan, everyone does, no need to be so formal."

She nods her head eagerly and moves to stand by the small man's side. "Good bye, Porlyusica. Thank you for having me!"

As they exit she hears the women call back, "And don't you come back here!"

Elizabeth frowns as the door closes. "Does she really not like me, Jichan?" She asks sadly. The women may smell like her Grandeeny but she certainly didn't act like the dragon she knew and loved. Still, her presence was comforting and Elizabeth wouldn't mid coming back just to be around her. They begin to meander their way out of the wooded area.

Makarov shakes his head, "Don't worry child, she likes you just fine. That's her way of asking you to visit her. But I'll just remind you, she isn't going to act like the Grandeeny in Dragonspyre."

"I figured as much," she sighs. Pausing to gather her thoughts, she decides to ask the question that had been weighing heavily on her mind. "Are people nice at Fairy Tail?" She inquires quietly.

He nods his head, "Yes, everyone there will be kind. We even have several other children around your age. How old are you, anyway?" He asks curiously.

"I'm ten," Elizabeth admits, "But I'm always told I'm really short for my age."

Makarov hides his surprise well. He would've guessed the girl was eight, nine at the absolute oldest. "You know, we have another dragon slayer at the guild already. His name his Natsu Dragneel, fire dragon slayer."

Elizabeth falters in her steps. How would she dance around him? When was the last time she saw Igneel? Would she still smell like him? "R-really?" she asks, silently berating herself for stuttering.

Makarov chooses to ignore her hesitation and says, "I mention this because he's going to question you. His dragon, Igneel, left when he was young. Not a single clue as to where he went," his question to her was clear but he plowed ahead in his explanation, "He hasn't given up hope in finding Igneel though. He came to Fairy Tail alone not even a year ago."

Elizabeth digests this and replies softly, "Thank you, for warning me. I'll tell him my dragon left me too."

Makarov doesn't turn to face her but hums, "Will you then?"

She could tell he was respecting her wishes at keeping her identity a secret but it was clear he was hoping she'd befriend the boy and tell her who she was and where his dragon went. But truthfully, Elizabeth didn't know. She knew all the dragons were recalled from Earth Land about a year ago, July seventh if she remembered correctly, but she couldn't say why. And honestly, she planned on avoiding this Natsu at all costs. If anyone was going to see through her guise, it was him and that wasn't something she wanted.

"We're almost there," Makarov says softly, pulling the girl from her musings. He points ahead to the Fairy Tail guildhall proudly.

Elizabeth takes in a breath. The place wasn't huge, not by her standards at least, but she liked it immediately. Her sensitive ears pick up the rowdy shouting coming from with in and she could smell the alcohol from where she stood, several yards away from closed doors. She smiles to herself. "It's perfect," she mutters.

"I'm glad you like it," Makarov replies. He pauses in front of the doors and says, "Welcome to Fairy Tail!" before pushing the double doors open.

The inundation of sound was almost overwhelming. People were shouting and laughing, talking and chatting. Tables littered the hall and nearly all of them were full and despite the early hour, the mages were drinking, some already thoroughly drunk. Elizabeth's grin was ear to ear.

As Makarov led her towards the bar, she listened in on some of the conversations, people retelling tales of their missions or just chatting about small things like polishing their weapons or even the weather.

Reaching the bar, Makarov gropes around the counter and comes up with a stamp. "What color would you like your guild-mark and where?" He asks.

She gestures to her left shoulder and says, "White, please."

With a nod, he presses the stamp to the proffered limb. There's a small pop and the familiar tingle of magic. When he pulls away the white mark of a Fairy Tail mage stood proudly against her pale skin. She smiles and says, "Thank you."

Makarov nods his head and says, "I'll introduce you to a few people your age and they can show you to Fairy Hills. It isn't far from here, just a short walk up a hill near the back of the guild."

Elizabeth watches as the master disappears into the crowd, searching for someone, and hops up to sit and wait on one of the bar stools.

"Who are you?" a voice asks.

She turns to see a boy around her age, with spiked obsidian hair. It fell into his eyes carelessly. His irises were the color of wet cement but held a spark that clearly said he was a troublemaker even though outwardly, he appeared bored. His skin was pallid and his dark blue guild mark stood out on his chest. Most notably though was the fact that he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, save for a pair of dark blue boxers. Most around him treated his attire as normal.

Elizabeth chooses to hold her tongue on the matter though and replies smoothly, "My name is Elizabeth Davis, but call me Liz. And you are?"

The boy offers his hand and answers, "Gray Fullbuster. Are you new here?"

She nods her head and shakes his hand politely, "I just joined, not even three minutes ago," she admits.

He nods his head, eyes remaining impassive yet curious. "What kind of mage are you?" he asks, "I'm an ice-make mage."

"Oh," she replies hesitantly, "I'm a-"

She's cut off by Makarov returning with a girl with scarlet red hair and a beer in hand. Her straight locks were pulled out of her face, into a ponytail and her brown eyes were calculating and fixated on her. Elizabeth notes that she smells like metal polish and strawberries, an odd combination though, considering she had a sword in a scabbard at her hip, not too far-fetched. She was tall and could only be a year or two older then herself, she decided.

"Elizabeth, this is Erza Scarlet. She's agreed to give you a tour of Fairy Hills and show you your space!" Makarov sings cheerfully.

The girl extends her hand, slightly stiff, and out of her peripheral vision Elizabeth watches as Gray's relaxed posture immediately becomes tense and on the alert. They shake hands and Erza says, "Nice to meet you."

"Yes, you too," Elizabeth replies with a smile. Her hands were calloused as if she was used to working with metal, blacksmiths hands she recalls her mother coining it, but her fingers were long and lithe. She could imagine Erza being a very agile adversary.

"Off you trot, brats!" Makarov enthuses.

"Bye, Gray," Elizabeth calls as she follows the older girl towards the door.

"See you around, Liz," he replies.

As they leave the guildhall through the front doors, Elizabeth is aware of more people noticing her. She focuses on Erza, trying to get a read on her. She walked as if she had a board strapped to her back, completely straight. She was completely on the alert and Elizabeth could imagine, if it were possible, that her ears were pricked up. Did she expect they would be jumped in a second?

As they walk, Erza chose to remain wholly silent. At first, Elizabeth was convinced Erza just didn't like her but as she observed her mannerisms she realized the girl was just socially awkward. Her eyes kept darting towards the blonde as if she wanted to say something but couldn't think of anything so chose to hold her silence. Elizabeth had to admit though; the girl was slightly intimidating.

"So," Elizabeth states, braving the void, "Are the dorms nice?"

Erza doesn't reply at first and Elizabeth is led to believe her question was going to be completely ignored. However, after gathering her thoughts, she replies, "Yes, they are. There are several other girls staying there our age. And the matron of the dorm, Hilda, is very kind, despite seeming strict at first."

Elizabeth smiles and asks, "Who are the other girls?"

"There's Levy McGarden, Bisca Mulan and Cana Alberona. They don't live in Fairy Hills but in the guild there's also _Mirajane_ and Lisanna Struass. They live with their brother, Elfman, in the town," Erza explains. The way she said Mirajane as if it left a sour taste in her mouth had Elizabeth wondering if there was bad blood between the two.

The building comes into sight and Elizabeth smiles. It looked like it would be very cozy and homey. An elderly woman stood in front of the gets, scowling. Her greying hair was pulled into a tight bun, clipped at the top of her head. She was wearing a pink dress with a white collar, arms crossed over her chest.

"Like I said, she acts really strict but be she's really caring too. She's the closest thing I have to a grandmother," Erza admits quietly, almost to herself.

Elizabeth nods her head, deciding to reserve her judgment until she really got to know the women.

"So you're the new mage, are you?" Hilda asks, looking slightly contempt, "Silly, if you ask me. Risking your lives for no reason." She sniffs indignantly.

Elizabeth falters for a moment before replying with a smile, "That would be me. My name is Elizabeth Davis, ma'am," she catches herself curtsying and stops just in time. With a wince she realizes it was going to be harder then she thought, dropping ten years of being trained to act like a princess.

It appears though, that neither Hilda nor Erza noticed. Instead, Hilda continues, "I'm sure Erza will show you to your room. I'm the matron here and they're a few rules that will need to be followed. Erza, dear, can you explain the rules to her?"

Elizabeth can see what Erza meant. Hilda took on an almost maternal attitude when addressing Erza. Said girl nods her head, eager to prove herself to her surrogate grandmother and replies, "I'd be happy to."

Satisfied with the answer, Hilda turns to address Elizabeth, "If you have any questions or concerns, you can find me." With that said, she disappears inside the building.

"Come on," Erza calls, gesturing for her to follow.

They enter the building and Erza smiles, visibly relaxing for the first time since Elizabeth met her. "This is the lobby," she explains, "There are no boys past this part of the building. Hilda really doesn't like any male coming within a mile of the grounds at all, actually."

She nods her head and Erza guides her towards the staircase on the other end on the room. "Up the stairs are all the dormitories. Each dorm has it's own bathroom attached but there's also a public bath a the end of the hall."

True to her word, up the simple staircase was a long hall with doors lining the walls on either side. While a bunch of the doors were unlabeled, the ones that were occupied had a name of the white wood of the door, written in fancy scripts and decorated accordingly. As they approach the end of the hall she notices a door that had a nameplate but was void of any decoration. The place read: Elizabeth D.

Smiling to herself, Elizabeth realized she couldn't wait to get her hands on a paint set to decorate her door. "This is your room," Erza says, "Mine is the one right across from yours, if you need anything. All the way downstairs is the resource room." Erza opens the door for her and gestures inside.

The walls of the room were light a light blue but the ceiling was a creamy shade of white. The floor was a lightly stained wood. There was a four-poster bed with white sheets, a white mahogany desk and bookcase, which was void of any books. Other then that, there was a set of white chairs and a glass coffee table.

"Right now, it isn't much," Erza admits, "But once you decorate it, it'll be your space, through and through."

"I like it already," Elizabeth breathes, happily.

"Since Master told Hilda you were coming yesterday the rest of the dorm wants to celebrate. Tonight we were going to picnic by the beach. Are you interested?" Erza asks, brushing a strand of her vibrant hair, which had escaped her hair tie back behind her ear in an almost nervous fashion.

"That sounds really nice Erza, thank you for showing me around," Elizabeth smiles kindly.

For the first time Erza returns the gesture, albeit reluctantly. "Ah, do you need anything, while I'm here? Or else I can come find you later when we're ready to leave?"

Elizabeth ponders the offer for a moment, hands automatically reaching to fiddle with the beading on her dress, only to remember she'd left the garish garment at Porlyusica's house in the woods. She'd need new clothing and for that she'd need money. She'd put money in the pockets for this exact reason. "Actually, I'm going to need to get some new clothes," she admits.

"I can show you around Magnolia if you need," Erza offers. "We can pick up Cana, she loves to shop. Well, for other people. Do you have any money?"

Elizabeth nods and says, "Yeah, but I left it in my old dress at Porlyusica's house," she blushes slightly, "Do you think we can go pick it up?"

"You know Porlyusica?" Erza asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah," she replies noting the surprise in the young mage's voice. Should she not have mentioned that she knew the old healer? "Do you?"

Erza nods, "When I first came here… I had a problem that needed medical attention and Master took me to her. She didn't seem happy about it, but she healed me well. How do you know her?"

Elizabeth hesitates. How did she answer that? She couldn't very well say she just appeared in the woods in front of her house, could she? Well, maybe… "I sort of stumbled across her. I was lost in the woods, you see, and passed out in front of her house yesterday. She called Jichan when she found me, I guess, and here I am."

Erza creases her brow in concern, "How did you get lost? Are you okay?"

Shoot. "Oh, I ran away from home," she said as flippantly as possible, "Mother and I didn't see eye to eye, I guess. I passed out from magical exhaustion but I'm okay now, really," she finishes.

Erza accepts the explanation without batting and eye and Elizabeth breaths a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry. Let's head down there and pick that up then. I know a short cut."

* * *

**Chapter one status: complete!**

**Thanks for reading, if you have any suggestions I'm all ears. Review! Constructively, of course ;)**

**Like it or not,**

**Juliet (Calliope29)**


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